


I Believe You

by IfMulderCouldSeeMeNow



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 20:15:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19837750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IfMulderCouldSeeMeNow/pseuds/IfMulderCouldSeeMeNow
Summary: Living with a recovering cannibal has it's downsides, especially when he may be back to his old ways. Inspired by the prompt: "you said this time it'd be different," which I slightly modified.





	I Believe You

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, here's another hurt/comfort but hopefully sweet fic from me bc I got that #summertimesadness but also...I crave bedannibal tenderness.

The sound of bone loudly snapping as she opens the door to the secluded villa makes her drop the canvas bag of groceries, the glass milk bottle shattering instantly. 

_She shouldn't know this sound_. 

Bedelia gets flashes in her mind of blood splattering over her face, skewers stabbed through temples and the crunch of a neck being broken and she reaches out to the doorframe for support. 

' _Observe or participate_ ,' repeats in her head and she begins to feel as if the walls are closing in on her.

 _I have to leave_ , she thinks. Her blue eyes are fast as they dart around the living space, and her breaths get quicker when she realizes there was no way to pack a bag without him noticing. She would have to do without this time.

She had gotten _comfortable_ with him in their time together, believing the promise that he would abstain from appetites that would always ultimately lead to demise. Apparently, she had been _foolish_. There is a stinging sensation in her chest that she absently recognizes as betrayal. 

Taking a second lingering glance on her life, she begins to back out of the doorway but stops when he enters the hall, a raised eyebrow and question in his eyes. 

" _Bedelia_?" Noticing her shocked face and the tipped over grocery bag, milk seeping across the hardwood floor, he advances on her quickly. "Are you okay?" He asks, reaching for her, but she takes another shaky step backwards in her patent leather wedges and is practically outside.

"You promised this time would be _different_ ," her voice is low and gravelly and her hair acts as a blonde curtain as she tries to hide her grief from him. It would be _too easy_ to fall back into his arms if she let him comfort her. That was her _pattern_.

"Yes," he agrees, still trying to catch her point. Had someone approached her at the marketplace? He thought their residency had been more than discreet as to not attract attention.

"And I _trusted_ you" her voice, barely above a whisper, cracks, revealing her anguish. Her frustration with herself for being so imprudent and infatuated that she once more unfolded like a flower, allowing him to see the innermost workings of her heart. "I won't live in fear again. I can't"

Her words flash him back to their late-night conversation in her home. The way she outright rejected him when he arrived at her door with two tickets, stating that she refused to live with the constant fear of being murdered and eaten again. Her companionship came at the cost of an ultimatum, and he couldn't blame her for trying to protect herself. He valued her instincts for self-preservation.

"I'm making bone broth. From the butcher." 

" _What_?"

"Come," he says gently gently, taking her hand in his and leading her to the kitchen. There are cuts of various sizes and lengths wrapped in the butcher's signature parchment paper and a thick bone clearly broken into two pieces.

"You're back early," he offers as an explanation and while she is still confused, she has always been quick. It was how she maintained her freedom, time and time again and how she tried to help him maintain his own. 

"You send me to town every Thursday" she suddenly realizes. Her eyes drift across the room again, more critically this time now that her heartrate as lowered and she notices each parcel has a business card placed in front of it. There is a bowl of drained blood, in front of it sitting an embellished card belonging to a prying travel agent from town who had made a not-so-subtle pass at her earlier this week.

He was practicing textbook sublimation and hadn't wanted her to see the red glint in his eyes as he cut and drained meat while imagining the flesh of his enemies. Imagining _other_ tender cuts of flesh. 

Hannibal turns to face her and drops his head to meet her eyes. His thumb tenderly rubs across the back of her hand as he tries to convey his remorse. 

"I'm sorry to hide this from you, but-,"

"No," she interrupts. "I should not have jumped to conclusions and I apologize. I just-"

She turns away from him but he gently brushes his hand under her chin, motioning for her to look at him. There are tears glistening in her eyes. 

"I am _happy_ here with you, Hannibal," she pauses and at her admission, a tear slides down his cheek. After all the pain she has endured, he only wishes for her happiness. "I was afraid that it was over."

Hannibal pulls her closer and wraps her in his arms, needing to reassure her. Her head rests against his chest and she sniffles softly. 

"I made a promise to you, Bedelia, and I intend to keep it," he says into her hair, his voice thick with emotion, but resolute.

Bedelia lingers in his arms for a moment before she raises on her tip toes and plants a gentle kiss on his lips, deepening it as his hands drop to her waist. She kisses him again, sliding her tongue across his lips, and again, each kiss conveying her unspoken message. _"I believe you_."

**Author's Note:**

> I thought that if Bedelia decided to run off with Hannibal post season 3, she would have some clear guidelines. Namely: No more murdering. But Hannibal would have to find a way to deal with his urges somehow, imo. If he could just stop, I mean...we wouldnt have a show would we?
> 
> Let me know what you thought!
> 
> If you have an idea for a fic, or just want to chat, send me a message on tumblr at shadequeenscully!


End file.
